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Homespun, pure fun from Boston’s High Diner

Boston’s High Diner combines crisp synth, lucious baritone harmonies, and crackling guitar to produce a psychedlic sound without the fuzzed out, drugged stoner quality we’ve become saturated with. I had almost forgotten that it’s possible to make psychedelic music with legible lyrics. I’m so used to the sound of mumbling drug-addicts that it’s almost shocking to hear something so pure and unbastardized.

Basically, their sound is a love triangle between the dorky love-child of Hall & Oates, who’s going steady with the sultry daughter of Tame Impala, who’s seeing Ben Folds secretly on the weekends. Everybody knows there’s something suspiciously collaborative going on, but it’s making them all better people for it.

I liked their album Purple Creek quite a lot, because it’s helplessly silly and doesn’t take itself seriously (in the best way). Best examples of their lightheartedness are illustrated on Massachusetts Waltz and Paris. Top picks for a good time: C.F.K., Pretty Redhead, and In The Morning.